MISSING THE MUSIC
AND THE DANCE

Our Father, your door, your windows,
your house on the top of the hill
is always open. I hear the sound
of your music and your dancing
from way down here
at the bottom of my soul.

Our Father, why do I always seem
to be walking the other way,
wandering in far countries,
singing sad songs in dark rooms,
starving in smelly pigpens,
when I really want to go home?

© Andy Costello, Prayers, 2009

Cf. Luke 15:11-32